ONCE IPON A RHYME IN THE LAND OF SKITTLZ
now the fact that im blank writting here and not on facebook
i always try to start my words via improvisation
what will i write about? where will i start? who will i influence?
who will read me? who will actually comment? am i a ghost in this town?
whose a true medium? who can read minds? are we all the same?
what is your biggest fear?
i would like to introduce myself
my name is james and i am self published writer. a film and stage actor. not so much lately i did do a play couple months ago to brush off the cobwebs, i work nightshift as a doorman in a luxurious building to pay the bills rent and i swim at the olympic pool. sleeping days is very hard , i lead a quiet life.
i smoke a doob once in a while
my mother passed 5 years ago after a 3 year bout with ovarian cancer
i will b celebrating my brothers birth day this year. same b day as robert deniro and im a long ways away from ending this story, my neck hurts
i havent made love to a woman in over 12 years and sometimes my neighbor whose retired makes noise and it gets me upset. the nightshift has taken its toll on me after i decided to go full fledge into martial arts at the age of 37 after training with george saint pierre at tri star gym montreal, i write for me and yes i write in broken sentences i write from the heart from the soul
not from the social conventions of a literary magazine…stretched my neck i listen to some eminem and wu tang clan , my friends call me skittlz.
i practice the art of aikibudo
do= the path
going for blue belt then brown
then the big one
studying for the past 6 years im 43 years old
sometimes the word is like cememt
sometimes the word is like a feather
tonight im working from the intellect
maybe another night i work from purely the heart
yet can we isolate these two
are just a base of what went on
the front lines of my family
the quiet syndrome
i was born to be a writer
i do what others dont
one on one
i dont have big followers
when the subject is ready
the typewriter and paper will appear
cry if you have too
hug a fucken tree
if no human is willing
there’s always a stray cat
listen to some good music
dance in the dark
punch a pillow
rainbows in a puddle, step on them like rippled effect
the mythology of bruce !